


split lip lover

by of_moonlight



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Disabled Character, Canon Era, Canon-Typical Violence, Disabled Character, Drama, Fights, Fist Fights, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay Male Character, Good Boyfriend Spot Conlon, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mom Friend Davey, Newsie Politics, Physical Disability, Politics, Post-Canon, Post-Strike, Spot Conlon is Bad at Feelings, Trans Male Character, Trans Spot Conlon, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 18:52:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16001219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/of_moonlight/pseuds/of_moonlight
Summary: Finally, Race rounds a corner. His heart is still beating out of his chest but the Delanceys, thank God, are nowhere to be seen. Legs aching and still high from the run, he somehow finds the strength to laugh.or, Race can't stop getting into fights and Spot can't stop helping him. This might be a problem.(Hiatus)





	split lip lover

**Author's Note:**

> hey! this is my first fic in the newsies fandom and i'm really excited. comments and kudos are what keep me going! this is basically just me loving newsie politics and wishing they were talked about more alskdfjkla. chapter title is from pup's "dark days".

 

The third night Race comes back to the boarding house bruised and bloody, Davey corners him to have a talk. Davey’s talks are infamous for starting as a gentle reprimand and ending with sobbing childhood traumas into his shoulder at 3 am.

Race tried to make a quick getaway, but Davey sidestepped, blocking the doorway. No other escapes unless he wanted to sleep on the pavement again. Shit.

“Hey, Race?” 

Race stared intently at the plaster just to the left of Davey’s head.

“Race, buddy. Look at me. What happened?”

“Nothin’. I’m fine, see?” Race raised his arms and grinned, making his split lip burn.

“You aren’t. You know you don’t have to lie to me, you know that?”

Race knew that. In theory. He dropped his arms.

“Honestly Dave, I’m fine. Pinky promise.”

Davey didn’t move from the doorway and raised one eyebrow.

“I'll be fine in the near future? It doesn't matter- hey, stop looking at me like that!”

Davey crossed his arms.

“Promise me you'll stop going out and getting your ass kicked.”

“God, ok, I promise.”

Ever the child, Race subtly crossed his fingers behind his back.

Reluctantly, Davey stepped out of the doorway. Race ran past him, ignoring how he could feel his eyes on his back. Race felt tears prick at the back of his eyes, squeezed them shut tight. He didn’t get why Davey would wait up for him to come back like this. Besides, his bruises should fade by the morning. He needs a fucking cigar.

\----------------------------------

The next morning, as Race is carefully putting on shaving soap, Albert bursts into the bathroom takes one look at him and nearly falls over. “Christ!” Albert exclaimed. “The hell happened to you?”. “You should see th’ other guy.” Albert looks at him then laughs, and the moment is gone, thank god. “Can I use youse shaving soap?” “Steal your own.”

\----------------------------------

Freshly shaved and in cleaner clothes, Race bounds downstairs, almost colliding with Finch on the way down. “Watch where you're fuckin’ going!” 

“Right back at cha!” Race yells back. He’s smiling, which doesn’t hurt him this morning. He and Jack are the first ones to the church. Jack seems to busy staring into the middle distance to register Race’s bruises, which is fine by him. Jack looking like he's about to combust out of worry isn’t. “Wanna sell by the Sheepshead with me?” Race says, breaking the silence. 

“Hm? Yeah, sure,” Jack said. It didn’t take a genius (which Race wasn’t) to figure out something was weighing heavy on Jack’s mind. Hopefully watery coffee would cheer him up. 

\----------------------------------

After the selling day is done, Jack seems even more pensive than before. Race is not the best equipped to deal with this. “Jack, I got some obligations this evenin’. But, since you're still in need of cheering up, you could find Davey and youse could …” Race waggled his eyebrows as if it wasn't already obvious what he was implying. Jack punched his shoulder but was grinning. “Dunno maybe I will.”

“Eww! I didn’t need to know that.”

“You implied it! You brought this on yourself and you know it!”

Still, Race walks off in a good mood. Checking to make sure no one he knew was by him, he slipped into an alley and lit a cigar. Damn, he was running out. Now, all there was to do was wait.

\----------------------------------

He woke up to someone flicking him on the nose.

“Leave m’ ‘lone” he said. 

“No. You’re the one who needs medical assistance.” 

He opened his eyes to Spot Conlon, the King of Brooklyn himself, staring at him clearly unimpressed. Race couldn’t help but smile.

“Damn right I do! I guess you got wind of my fight last night?” 

“Why else would we both be here? I don’t understand why you are unable of patching yourself up.” 

Race shrugged. “Guess ‘m just stupid.” 

Spot was silent for a long moment.

“Don’t say that. Here, let me fix you.” Race shifted over, and hissed as Spot gently peeled back his sleeve, exposing the dark and angry wound on his arm. Race shut his eyes and leaned his head back against the brick. This was nice. It wasn’t often someone tended to him like this, touched him with the intent to heal.

“There. You’re done. Don’t make a habit out of this,”.

“I won’t,”.

They both knew Race was lying, but what difference did it make?

\----------------------------------

He gets back to the boarding house just after dark. Most of the guys are downstairs, but Race was too tired for social interaction. He went up the stairs, collapsed into bed, and immediately found himself unable to sleep. As he stared up at the ceiling, willing his body to just drift off, he heard to pairs of footsteps. 

“Christ Davey, I just- I dunno what to do.”

Was that Jack?

“Deep breaths, c’mon. I know we can work through this. We’ll figure out how to get it back without destroying our allyship.”

“Destroy o- Do you even fucking get how serious this is? Our territory is shrinking by the minute!”

“I’m fully aware! Trust me, I’m just as worried as you are!”

“Are you really? How goddamn worried can you be?”

“Jack, please. I’m trying to help here,”.

“ _ I’m _ trying to figure out how to get it back without destroying what little we have left! Do you know how scared the guys were last time we fought with this neighborhood? This ain’t a fuckin laughing matter-”

“Jackie, no one is laughing. I’m right here with you. I promise,”. 

“I believe you, I just- I’m fuckin’ scared,”.

“As am I, love. As am I. In the meantime, you’re in desperate need of sleep. Do you want to sleep at my place tonight?”

Jack sniffled.

“Yea. Yea, sounds good,”.

Race felt like he had just intruded on something very private; he wished he could unhear it. He didn’t fall asleep for a long time after that.

  
  


 

 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading!


End file.
